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Text Midnight Hour grew quickly: in almost no time at all he was already scrambling around on his claws, giggling and playing with Tender Trust and Temperance and other foals around Castle Enstasis and Ponyville. Scrivener Blooms and Luna were doting parents, putting their child first above all else, and as gifts and praises rolled in from around Equestria for the young Prince, the country settled into peace inspired by the adoration their dark King and Queen held for their baby boy... and the compassion he inspired in them both. By his birthday, Midnight Hour could already babble words, run – and he'd only fall on his face occasionally, a sight that often made Scrivener laugh despite his best efforts not to with how adorable and clumsy the colt was – and was the size of a much-older foal. His body had large, gleaming black scales, and while his rear legs ended in cloven hooves, his front limbs had dexterous claws... but he had a pony's tail and a pony's mane, both an almost-glowing sapphire, although his Wyrm-like features clearly took after his father... except, of course, for his mother's cyan eyes. Two small, draconic horns stood back out of his skull, and he had a single large unicorn's horn growing slowly from his forehead, this slightly-curved and already dangerous-looking. He was already capable of using simple magic as well and moving objects twice his size with telekinesis: he was a prodigy in every sense of the word, combining all the best traits of his mother and father, and they were endlessly proud of the handsome child. He listened intently to his parents and their teachings, and while he was a proud Prince, he had friends among the servants as well as the other nobles. He didn't understand social class or structure, he only saw other people... a quality that Luna and Scrivener both thought was beautiful and divine. Midnight only saw his friends, and whoever caught his interest or earned his companionship he stuck beside: he was a wonderful child. One thing that his parents found odd, however, was that Midnight never dreamed: he adored fantasy stories, he loved listening to his father and mother telling him tales of the past, he could often be found daydreaming or zoning out, but the child never had either dreams or nightmares. In fact, he didn't even seem to understand the concept: for him, when he closed his eyes at night, there was only a period of darkness, a period of... silence... and then the next morning. That was all. It was curious, but it didn't seem to affect Midnight Hour overly much: he made up for it by spending so much time daydreaming, and the child needed little sleep. In fact, even though Scrivener and Luna needed little rest themselves, the energetic, hyperactive colt often ran them ragged, even with the help of Scarlet Sage, Celestia, Pinkamena, and Twilight. Perhaps that was part of the reason why Luna and Scrivener were able to settle themselves and their desires down, however: Midnight Hour kept them too tired to plot any extra experiments or pursue much in the way of their darker pleasures, and instead both ponies would flop down in the Garden or their bedroom any chance they got, mumbling at each other for creating such an energetic little boy. But Midnight made them happy, made them feel complete, settled their urges: felt like ultimate victory and a success and achievement of something greater than even taking control of Equestria. Midnight Hour's first birthday party was a spectacular celebration: from morning to late that night, there was every kind of entertainment imaginable, from a carnival that was set up outside the Village of the Damned to the games throughout Enstasis to the endless buffets and so much else. And Midnight was gleeful the entire time, amazed by the presents flowing in from across Equestria, delighted by all the attention he was receiving as Luna and Scrivener smiled affectionately at one-another. Scrivener was eventually cajoled into taking on his full Tyrant Wyrm size, laughing as he carried Midnight and his friends on his back on a romp through the Everfree Forest while the sun set... giving Luna enough time to help set up the fireworks display so that went father and son and company returned, they were able to witness the spectacular display of neon light and flame bursting through the darkened skies above, as the stars themselves seemed to gleam in time with the bursts and flares. When the party finally ended and Midnight Hour went to bed, he did so with a bright smile, looking up at his parents adoringly as he snuggled under the comforter, his favorite stuffed toys beside him. He had loved every moment of his party... but not only had he shown such thankfulness, such affection and kindness, he had given many of his own gifts from the kingdom away to his friends, insisting they share on his happiness. Luna and Scrivener were so proud of him: he had taken all their lessons, about giving to those you cared about, about making the most of one's own life, about being free and not worrying about the rules and laws of others... and made all those lessons somehow... right. He was happy, carefree, bright and generous... he made Luna and Scrivener work harder to tame their own desires, remember the people they had used to be, and even feel the stirrings of faint conscience over what they had done out of selfishness and lust... and swear to themselves and each other in silence in front of their slumbering, smiling son, that they would do a better job in the future. They would be the heroes that Scarlet Sage still looked up to them as, even after everything the had done; they would be parents who were worthy enough to stand in the shadow of their innocent child. Everything about Midnight Hour seemed special: not only his uncanny ability to pick up on anything that he put his mind to learning, not only the way that he so quickly grew up or his happy, pacifistic nature, but from the way he walked to the way he spoke and acted, there was something about him that was... unique. Wonderful. Something that made Luna and Scrivener prouder every day of their son... who, six months after his first birthday, already larger than most of the foals around Enstasis but as gentle as a lamb, earned his emblem, his cutie mark when they were visiting the ruins of Canterlot. Twilight Shadow and Celestia had wanted to take Midnight out to see the remains of the castle and explain the Canterlot that had once been to him, and Luna had decided to make a day trip out of it and figured they could finally begin the long-awaited repairs to restore the ruins. She had summoned their old friend Illyria, who was now very happy in his position as Chief Architect of Equestria... but then again, not a lot of Architects had survived the civil war. Many had refused to take sides and simply vanished... but some still remained, here and there, dedicated to their work. Illyria went out with a work crew to survey the damage to the ruins and begin making estimates, much-more complacent than he had been in the past now that he was in the position of authority he'd always craved. Not the power necessarily, it wasn't that which drew him in, that interested him... but the pride of being able to declare his rank to the other Architects; and more importantly, over them. When they had arrived, the Nibelung had already been at work at the base of the ruins, Illyria grumbling and stewing over a map, and Midnight had watched them curiously while listening to Celestia's long, calm speech about old Equestria and what Canterlot had once represented. Scrivener had listened curiously himself while Luna had simply flopped down moodily, and Twilight had smiled radiantly at her former teacher, soaking in the words and knowledge. But long before Celestia had finished, there had been a rumble from above as a Nibelung checking the supports above had howled a warning before falling... and those gathered below had stared up in shock when the shale and rock and ancient, moldering marble tore and shattered, joists giving away and countless tons of ruin and stone plummeting towards them. Immediately, Scrivener, Celestia, Luna, and Twilight had all stepped forwards, horns glowing, catching as much of it as they could with telekinesis... but then slowly, horribly, several large, ruined towers of white stone had tipped over, dislodged from the base of the ruins breaking away, and their fall sent up a blast of dust and rock and shattered stone as they crashed downwards in a devastating hail... And then Midnight Hour had leapt forwards with a desperate shout, rearing back as his eyes glowed white and his curved horn lit up brilliantly.. and in a flash of sound and power, a visible ripple had torn upwards through the mountainside, through the avalanche of debris, and all had only been able to gape as the fall of rock had simply stopped. Midnight had fallen on his back with a wheeze, looking as amazed as the others before Celestia had leapt forwards to order the Nibelung hurriedly away, and Luna had swept up her son before they had turned and bolted, not knowing how long the powerful magic would last. Slowly, time returned to normal around the rocks, and they came plummeting down... but thankfully, long after everyone had fled the area. They watched the dust cloud rise up through the air, then turned their marveling eyes to blushing Midnight Hour before Celestia smiled faintly and said softly: "Not since Twilight Sparkle have I seen a foal display such... power. And it seems, Midnight Hour... you've found your special talent." Midnight had stared stupidly over his shoulder at his flank, and his eyes had widened in amazement: his cutie mark had appeared, and it was a black and ivory pocketwatch with the Gothic hands pointing at five after midnight, with several frozen gears visible on one side of the watch. And then Luna and Scrivener had both embraced their son fiercely, Luna covering her foal's face with kisses as she whispered: "I am so proud of thee, beloved Midnight Hour..." Midnight Hour could control, in simple terms, the flow of time itself: in more-complex terms, it was not actually time but reality itself that Midnight manipulated, controlling the flow of particles, forcing them to freeze or reverse, giving him almost absolute dominance over the movement of energy, objects; everything. From something as massive as the avalanche had been to something as small as a fly, he could freeze it in place or simply slow it down. An incredible talent that Luna hurriedly put to misuse by encouraging her son to pull pranks, such as when Nidhogg was outside practicing aerial acrobatics, and Luna nagged Midnight into eventually slowing time around the demon, making him have a panic attack when he began flying at a snail's pace and found himself unable to pick up speed no matter what he did, while Luna cackled from her hiding spot in the tower and Midnight only smiled embarrassedly. And that was the extent of what he used his powers for, on a daily basis: harmless, simple little pranks, or catching someone who tripped or a falling object before it hit the ground. More than one pony had been stunned by the sight of a falling drink halting itself in midair, and Midnight calmly walking forwards to gently grasp the cup and scoop the floating liquid back up with the glass before returning time to normal as he handed it to whoever dropped it, earning gapes, applause and praises that only made him smile and blush. He was the perfect son. And by the time he was three years old, he was a strong combatant on the field as well, sparring with Celestia, Luna, and his father, learning about his warrior heritage, entranced with the stories of old and tales of honor. And yet he never misused his powers: more than once he had stepped in the way to take a blow for a friend, and yet he never returned that blow. On his fourth birthday, he received a special gift: a visit from his uncle, Sleipnir, who came down from Valhalla 'on business' to see Luna, but stayed to meet his nephew, talk with him, spend time with him. Sleipnir was delighted by his nephew... and all the more pleased by the fact that Luna and Scrivener were acting benevolently, treating Equestria better, not giving into their urges. He approved wholeheartedly of Midnight Hour: and quietly, he congratulated Luna and Scrivener not just on their child... but on beginning to mend their own ways. The two had bowed their heads quietly in respect and a bit of embarrassment... because they knew it was true. They looked around, saw the prizes and the treasures and the beautiful things they had made and created and owned... but they saw the mistakes too. Realized how greedy and cruel they had been... and while they could not remedy the past and knew that to try and fix some of these mistakes would only create further damage, they could ensure that in the future they did better. They still thought of themselves as gods, yes... but they would not become pedantic monsters like Valthrudnir, or jealous and angry and bitter like Odin. They would prove that gods could be kind; that gods could share their power; that gods could earn their worship, if worship was to be had. Sleipnir had only stayed a few days: all he could afford to be away from Valhalla for, but enough to clear up his worries and the fears that had brought up by 'allies' he grumbled irritably about. They wanted to ensure that Luna and Scrivener were not further damaging this layer of reality, and that Midnight Hour would not be a threat due to the incredible powers the foal already possessed... but Sleipnir was honestly impressed and amazed by how kindhearted and loving and wonderful Midnight was. By what a perfect son he was... a foal who never struck out at his parents, who was righteous and courageous, who was happy and warm and loving... who had made it a tradition that every year on his birthday, he gave away half of his gifts to his friends. Pinkamena had watched Sleipnir leave with longing in her eyes, playing quietly with a locket around her neck: a locket that now contained two pictures. One of smiling Pinkie Pie before her change... and one of Sleipnir, grinning radiantly out of the tiny frame. And Luna and Scrivener both knew that Pinkamena would wait until the end of time if she had to, as Midnight looked curiously at the demon, then asked finally: "Why don't you go after him?" "Kid, you're too goddamn much like your parents." Pinkamena said finally, and then she had paused, reached out and gently patted his head, and headed back inside. Midnight Hour had been confused, but Scrivener and Luna had only smiled before bringing their child back into Enstasis, as he asked them questions about love, about longing, about things that were so simple and easy to know and yet so difficult to answer, so impossible to explain. Equestria was at peace: the most notable event was a meteor landing in the wilds nearby that Luna and Scrivener went out to investigate themselves, and found contained strange crystals and metals... but it was otherwise just a wrecked hulk of boulder. The Strange Ones had shown up not long afterwards, showing an unusual desire for it, and the two had shrugged and handed it over without complaint... which had earned them bows from the robed figures before one murmured from beneath its cloak: "Perhaps there is hope after all." Luna had been half-insulted, half-touched... and had reacted the same way when Discombobulation had met them at the Gates of Enstasis, rubbing moodily at his arm even as he admitted grouchily: "I forgot all about the chaos factor in you ponies, even though I am chaos myself... that with the right touch, the right spark, just like my kind... your kind, too, can be turned right around on their heads. Good for you." "I wish creatures would cease complimenting us." Luna had grumbled irritably, and Bob had shrugged, then made a flicking motion with his wrists: a leather jacket had appeared immediately over his body, and he had leaned back to pose with both thumbs up before vanishing from the spot, making Luna add grouchily: "I shall order Twilight to order Bob to write down all the references he has used over the years we have known the fool. 'Twill keep the chaos entity busy for a hundred years. And then a hundred more after that when I force him to explain them in detail!" Scrivener had only gently patted Luna on the back, and she had slapped at him in response with her hooves before the pair had made their way back inside, both feeling the warmth, the love, the sense of... their old selves bubbling softly to the surface. They saw to Midnight Hour that night, spent the evening with him... and then, that night, husband and wife went quietly to their room, kissed gently, slipped into bed, and made love. But then something happened, as their innocent son grew up, began to take more of an interest in war and battle, in learning about his parents, in learning about the kingdom he ruled. Midnight Hour began to use his powers a little more every day, began to listen more and more to the constant praises he received and the gifts he was often being given by admirers, friends, and the kingdom. He was the young Prince of the Night, and a prodigy, and he could have anything he wanted as he grew stronger each and every day, as Scrivener and Luna gave him anything and everything he asked for. Not that Midnight had ever wanted much before... but now, growing older, he became bolder. Something changed, and it was visible even in his features, as they hardened, as he looked around at foals his own age and he realized he was twice the size of them... when in a short burst of out of character anger while in Ponyville, he had shoved a pony that had gotten in the way of his game with his friends out of the way and they had laughed, and the pony – an adult, a fully-grown Pegasus only a little larger than him – had only stared at him, then hurriedly fled. No one had believed her at first, of course, and Luna and Scrivener were outraged by the accusations when the rumor reached them... yet also worried. Neither of them brought it up with Midnight Hour, who to them was as kind and generous as ever, who seemed to go back to his happy, easy ways... that was, until another pony beat him at a simple game of chess. Another foal, when he was supposed to be the prodigy, when he was the special one, not them... Midnight had easily picked the child up with a single claw by the throat, and his friends had stared... with fear, with respect, with amazement, before Midnight had thrown the scared foal away and shouted at him to get lost. The foal had run, and Midnight Hour had grinned... then looked up sharply when a Greater Nightmare had appeared beside him and asked softly: "Aren't you better than that, young master? Maybe I am speaking out of line..." "Maybe you are." Midnight retorted, and the Greater Nightmare had fallen as silent as his friends before Midnight Hour had frowned... and then his eyes had widened as he'd understood. He remembered all the things his parents said, that he was always safe in Enstasis, that all the servants of the night, that all of Equestria, had to obey him and his every command... and he had grinned slowly, filling with a sense of power. With the feeling that he could get away with anything and everything... with a thrill that he'd never experienced following all the rules and expectations of others... To his parents, he was still the same loving child. Despite their misgivings by the way Midnight Hour seemed more... aggressive, more loud, more interested in power and possession, Luna and Scrivener were blind to the way that Midnight had begun to explore and abuse his powers. Both because Midnight did his best to hide what was going on from them, and because they saw their handsome son through love's blinders, saying 'colts will be colts' and 'our boy is just growing up' and even 'they are simply jealous; he is a Prince, he can have everything, and he has always been so good and kind... of course ponies are going to gossip.' Celestia, however, caught Midnight Hour and his friends – who more and more loosely resembled a gang, not a group of free-spirited kids – loitering their way through Ponyville and menacing ponies there. She had followed them silently, realizing that many of Midnight's original friends were gone and had been replaced by much-older foals... teenagers, even young adults, and her gaze darkened as they approached Spike where he was setting up a display rack outside the blacksmith's. He smiled up at them, but nervousness flicked over his features at the way Midnight Hour was grinning: the foal who Rarity herself had noted had changed over the last few weeks. It was made all the more intimidating by the fact that said foal had at least five large ponies with him, all of therm leaning forwards as Midnight Hour asked mockingly: "Hey, Spike, you know it's my birthday coming up... and I was looking for gifts for my friends. You know how nice I am. What do you have here?" "Oh, you know... belts, buckles, s-stuff like that..." Spike said nervously, straightening and rubbing at the back of his head as he grinned, his blacksmith's apron fluttering around him as he looked apprehensively over the ponies. "Nothing... you know, really cool or-" "I'll tell you what I like and what I don't like, dragon." Midnight Hour said sharply, standing tall and glaring at Spike, who looked shocked at the behavior of the once sweet-tempered foal. "Now listen to me, serf, I want-" "Midnight Hour." Celestia said calmly and coldly, and Midnight's eyes widened as his 'friends' all stared in shock, before the ivory equine stepped forwards, her fiery mane twisting around her as her amethyst eyes narrowed. "Come with me." Midnight for a moment looked as if he wanted to fight, as his 'friends' hurriedly backed off... and then he grumbled and lowered his head moodily, nodding and closing his eyes. Celestia nodded once at this, then she had turned and led him in silence back to Enstasis before dragging him in front of his parents and telling them quietly and clearly what had happened. Luna and Scrivener had been so shocked they hadn't even known what to say or do... made more complex when Midnight broke down into tears and claimed Celestia was making it sound much worse than it was. Celestia looked at them pleadingly, and Scrivener and Luna looked back helplessly before Midnight had simply run away... and it had left them to wonder silently what to do, and why the foal had been acting out. They didn't know what to say... so it slipped silently away. And Luna and Scrivener did their best to turn a blind eye to Midnight's misdeeds, to tell themselves it was just a phase, only able to mumble weak reprimands when Celestia or Twilight Shadow or somepony else brought the child to them. Something that made Midnight Hour think he could get away with worse, reinforced his behavior as Luna and Scrivener looked on helplessly. He had been their guiding, shining star, after all, and Luna was terrified of upsetting the foal and Scrivener felt torn; every time he tried to talk to the foal, to get him to see reason, after all, Midnight only ignored him or just nodded along until he was allowed to go. On Midnight's fifth birthday, the foal acted bored, rude, and arrogant, and this year he kept all the gifts for himself... as well as tried to claim the entire cake, not to mention hog all the games and entertainment, shoving around and insulting those who got in his way. The entire time, Luna and Scrivener were trying to scold him, trying to warn him... and finally, Luna's patience snapped and she shouted in a voice that knocked Midnight Hour sprawling: "We have had enough of this foolishness! Thou shalt listen to us, understood?" Midnight had curled up, whimpering, and Luna had felt horrible even as Scrivener had taken over, reprimanding him and sending him off to his room... but the party had broken up quickly after that, muted and silent. The worst part was the apologies they received, and the ponies who came forwards and said quietly: "He was such a sweet foal." But already, Midnight Hour had grown up: in a few years, he'd gone from a baby to an adult, with a strong mind, a powerful body, a truly incredible talent... and yet for all of that, he had the emotions of a child, still. A child who was no longer kind and calm and sweet and even-tempered, but instead a child who had grown spoiled and arrogant and rude and infatuated with his own power and false-authority... a child who could not dream, did not have nightmares, and no longer fantasized, instead trying to live out his every ambition in cold, cruel reality. It had been a hard night... a night Luna and Scrivener made themselves stay away from their son for, despite wanting to go to him, to comfort him. And it hurt Midnight Hour deeply, to have his parents yell at him, humiliate him at his own birthday, and then avoid him. By the next day, however, he had calmed and quietly gone to meet his parents for breakfast, and they had traded hugs and he had apologized... and for a little while, all had been well. Midnight Hour was quieter, but nicer: he stopped hanging out with the older ponies and went back to quietly playing with the friends who had forgiven him. But it didn't last forever, as Midnight's desires returned: to be noticed, to feel powerful, to be strong. To get what he wanted, to experience everything he could, since he never knew what it was like to find escape in dreams, had forgotten his old habits of daydreaming and fantasizing. And his desires were amplified by frustration from the fact that Luna and Scrivener were doing their best to keep him from becoming too involved around Enstasis because they were worried about how the responsibilities would affect him and his young mind. Eventually, the child prodigy grew so restless, so frustrated, so longing that he stormed out of Enstasis late one night and took out his rage in the forest on its inhabitants. The next morning, Nightmares reported that several animals had been found mutilated and trees shattered, burned, and destroyed. Midnight Hour simply remained silent as Scrivener and Luna had both ordered Phooka into the woods, and the child had thought about the strange feelings he'd gotten from killing. From watching their life drain out of the stupid animals he'd stormed across and blasted with magic, meaning only to scare off the first few... but instead he'd hit the deer with the spell, and it had screamed, and the sound had scared him at first but then he'd liked it, liked the power and the control and the blood as dark and strange things woke up inside of him... But he was careful. No one suspected it was him, and Midnight Hour didn't go hunting again for another week. In his sparring and training, however, he became more vicious... and accidentally discovered that he could "feed," just like his father, off the minds and emotions of those who he gazed into the eyes of when he'd accidentally connected with Nidhogg, driving the demon into fear and frenzy until Scrivener had calmed the bestial, broken creature down. Midnight had been relieved when he hadn't been punished for it, just an accident... but it was something he put to use the next time he went out hunting, drinking in the emotions of the animals he ripped apart... not nearly as delicious as the demon's emotions had been, but enough to rile him up and excite him all the same. Time passed, and Celestia silently put together who was doing the attacks in the forest as the grew more frequent, until the day she finally caught Midnight Hour... but what could Luna and Scrivener do? They sent him to his room, scolded him, told him he didn't understand what he was getting into... but it only encouraged Midnight further. He was growing stronger, fiercer, and losing who he'd once been to become something else, undergoing an ugly metamorphosis as he stormed around his room and shouted at the walls. Time marched on, relentless, ruthless, forcing them to go through changes, evolutions, transformations, as Equestria became uneasy. The Prince of the Night had gone from a beacon of hope to a symbol of corruption, and Luna and Scrivener hung their heads in shame at the rumors they heard that said the King and Queen had corrupted their own son. Because it was true, wasn't it? They were responsible in some way for what had happened, they both knew it... and even though they were both trying so hard to be a good King and Queen, to retain their dignity, to rein in their desires even now... the ponies had begun to fear them more than respect and love them again. And why not? With all the sins and guilt upon their heads, how could they not be blamed? But shortly after the ugly, semi-private semi-birthday of Midnight Hour – now as big as a bulky adult earth pony, with eyes that glowed, his dragon horns long and blade-like unicorn horn tall and gleaming and sharp – the foal found himself in an argument with Scrivener. More and more, Midnight Hour was picking arguments with his parents... particularly his father, who Midnight always said should better understand him, who Midnight wasn't afraid to yell at because Scrivener was too plagued by thoughts of his own parents to do more than raise his voice in return, because Midnight Hour was too-often easily cowed by his mother's ferocity. This time it was about feeding, how Scrivener fed once a day but Midnight wasn't allowed to more than once a month. They were shouting at one another, arguing back and forth, both of them animal and frustrated as Luna snarled but stayed back at the side of the library as Mephistopheles twined nervously back and forth, tiny pseudodragon chirping nervously as father and son debated and snapped at each other. And then Midnight Hour had glared at Mephistopheles when the pseudodragon had skittered forwards nervously, chirping up at him, and he'd shouted: "Fine, then I'll just have my monthly feeding off a stupid animal now!" He'd glared down into the pseudodragon's eyes, and Mephistopheles had shrieked as Luna had stared and Scrivener had shouted in denial, then run forwards and shoved Midnight out of the way when the pseudodragon had collapsed lifeless to the ground... and slowly, trembling in horror, Scrivener had picked up the dead body of his prized, beloved pet. Midnight had stared in shock, tried to splutter some excuse, some apology, as Scrivener had clenched his eyes shut... and yet they had been visibly glowing, his frame trembling as he clutched the pseudodragon tight to his chest, whispering: "Get out. Just get out." They buried the dead pseudodragon that afternoon, Scrivener rubbing at his eyes and looking as if he'd lost a child... but he felt like he'd lost two. Midnight Hour was locked up in his room, and Mephistopheles was buried in the earth, because no matter how much he wanted to bring him back... Scrivener and Luna both had to start accepting sooner or later that they couldn't bend or break every law or rule for their own pleasure. They couldn't continue to corrupt the world... because it had resulted in all the darkness they had bathed in for so long seeping its way into their own beloved child. To make matters worse, a week later Midnight Hour discovered that he could feed off the energies of his victims not just through eye contact... but by seizing them, ripping his claws into them, he could draw out their energies, their life force, and add their strength to his own. He was truly well on his way to becoming the ultimate monster, and he trembled with the realizations of his power, of what it meant, of who he was learning he was. Not some pure of heart innocent child... but already an adult. Already a monster in his own right. Already... a god, just like his parents. Yet still, he did love – and respect, and perhaps even fear a little – his mother and father and his extended family. He adored them all, and he hated upsetting them and disappointing them... his parents especially. They had taught him so much, even though now they denied him his power, denied him his right to act as Prince of the Night of Equestria, kept on punishing him for things he knew they'd once basked in themselves. He knew that Scrivener, his father, was a Tyrant Wyrm; he knew that his mother, Luna Brynhild, was a former Valkyrie. He knew they called themselves gods... and that by extension, he was a god himself. Growing more obsessed with both himself and his own power by the day or not, however, he was still their child, their son. Prodigy or not, a genius who was able to learn anything faster than the fastest pony in Equestria, able now to absorb the vitality of others and add their physical strength to his ever-growing pool as well as feed off the spirit and emotions of others as well as any Tyrant Wyrm, he still possessed a foal's emotions. A foal's needs and desires. He was confused, and desperate, and furious, and his need for personal power and to experience everything the world had to offer warred with his need to gain his parents' approval. Midnight Hour: born a beautiful handsome boy, weighing in at almost double the size of the average baby, loved by his parents before they'd even set their eyes on him. Who had driven the corrupting desires out of the hearts of his own parents with his purity and his light before that flickering childhood innocence had been tarnished and receded, bit-by-bit, as Tyrant Wyrm heritage and all the sins and passions and dark pleasures he'd inherited from his mother and father had begun to awaken inside of him. As the youth proved that the higher something rose... the harder, faster, and deeper it had to fall. Top ↑ Category:Transcript Category:Story